


we don't talk (when we aren't having sex)

by Areiton



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Hook-Up, M/M, Tony Stark Feels, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27436573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: The hard part comes when the sex is over, when the sweat is cooling and Steve kisses him quick and rolls out of bed, and he says, “Thanks, baby.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 153





	we don't talk (when we aren't having sex)

It’s always awkward, after. 

The sex is easy, even if the moment when he comes knocking, when they stare at each other, too aware of what they other wants, but neither quite willing to  _ ask _ \--it passes quickly, fades under hot kisses and heavy hands, pushed away in whispered filth, in what Steve begs for and the sound of his cock sliding through plush lips, the soft grunts he gives while he fucks Steve’s throat. 

Sometimes, that’s all Steve wants, to be  _ used _ , to make Tony come so hard he’s screaming with it, and Steve grins at him, come smeared on his face and smug. 

Sometimes, he wants Tony begging, wants to draw it and make him squirm, take him right up to the edge of orgasm again and again until he finally shoves in all at once and Tony comes, wailing, face shiny with tears. 

Sometimes it’s just kisses, lazy handjobs and making out until Steve rolls him to his belly and rims him with a kind of decadent indulgence, until Tony’s hard again and panting, and begging to be fucked, and Steve grins and bites at his neck, murmurs, “Yeah, ok, baby,” and fills him up, steady and grounding and overwhelming all at once. 

The sex is easy, is the thing, the place where they know exactly where to meet, and how to get off. They never stumble, when they’re naked and touching. 

The hard part comes when the sex is over, when the sweat is cooling and Steve kisses him quick and rolls out of bed, and he says, “Thanks, baby.” 

Tony can still feel the hot press of his hands and the slick of his come on his thighs, can still feel the weight of his cock on his tongue, and Steve’s--walking away. 

He nods, and smiles, and says, “My pleasure.” 

~*~ 

It’s not good for him. 

He knows it’s not. Steve’s a fuckbuddy, a good time, and not even a regular one at that. 

But he’s not  _ good  _ for Tony, even if the sex is, and sometimes when they bump into each other, the sting of it--of ropeburns on his wrist and an empty space in his bed and subdrop so bad he ended up crawling into Rhodey’s bed for a week straight--he can’t help but resent him, just a little. 

Rhodey doesn’t know, won’t ever know, and Steve--Steve doesn’t either. 

It’s not Steve’s fault Tony went and did something as stupid as catching feelings. 

~*~ 

“You don’t have to go,” Tony says, and Steve flashes a smile, sweet and edged with sleep, sated and lazy. 

“I should, though.” 

He doesn’t ask again. 

~*~ 

They don’t talk. 

They fuck and they lose themselves, for a few hours at a time, in each other, but they never talk. It’d be good--the best hookup he’s ever had--if they hadn’t lost so much along the way. 

~*~ 

They were friends, once. 

Before that night when there was too much whiskey and too much flirting and they fucked, all fast and desperate and Tony came on his cock, begging for more and Steve held down his wrists, bit at his throat and called him  _ mine. _

He wasn’t, though, and he limped back to Ty, shame curling hot and heavy in his gut. 

They were friends, once, and as good as the sex is--he wishes sometimes they’d never let that go. 

~*~ 

At some point, he starts leaving, crawling out of bed while Steve’s still gasping and pulling on his clothes. 

Steve stops him, once, says, “You could stay. Get a beer.” 

Tony glances at him and shakes his head. “Better not.” 

He doesn’t say,  _ I don’t know what to say to you, when we aren’t having sex.  _

He doesn’t say,  _ You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.  _

He doesn’t say,  _ I hate how much I love you.  _

He doesn’t say, _ If I stay, I’ll never want to leave.  _

He doesn’t say anything. Just slips out the door, memories and Steve’s touch horded like dragon’s gold to his chest. 

~*~

One day. 

One day he won’t answer. 

One day, he’ll say  _ no. _

One day, this--the aching loneliness that settles after the burning pleasure fades away--will be too much and he’ll turn away from it, away from Steve. 

But Steve smiles, and murmurs, “Hey, baby boy.” 

Steve kisses him, gentle and hungry and says, “Lemme suck your cock.” 

Steve pulls him close and says, “God, I can’t stop thinking about you, how sweet you take it.”

Steve pulls him in and

Tony comes. 


End file.
